


Retorta (iterum est)

by Lady Adain (pocketTherapist)



Category: Bleach
Genre: Aizen has no idea what's going on, BAMF Kurosaki Ichigo, BAMF Urahara Kisuke, Extended Winter War, Fix-It of Sorts, He doesn't like it, M/M, Time Travel, Timeline What Timeline, UraIchi Week 2018, author is a troll, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-05-19 02:57:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 16,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14865290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocketTherapist/pseuds/Lady%20Adain
Summary: Kisuke is not having a good day.Aizen is about to have a much worse one, though.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> May 28: Day 1 - Time Travel | Dimension Travel | Fix-It
> 
> Look I have no excuses but here have a fic.

Kisuke comes awake with a jerk and no memory of having fallen asleep. He struggles against the disorientation, wrenching at his usually - clear mind when it refuses to offer up an answer. He had been… He and Ichigo had been traveling…

 

The memory settles in with an unpleasant twisting sensation and Kisuke bolts to his feet. Or tries to, anyway. The suppressant collar locked around his throat saps his strength and his hands and the collar are both chained to the wall; all he succeeds in doing is choking himself. He falls back onto the bench and forces himself to think. 

 

He remembers this cell. He was kept here while waiting for his trial after he had failed to stabilize the Vizored for the first time. That would place him roughly a century and a decade or two in the past. He’s clearly in his old body, and a thrill of fear shoots through him. Ichigo has no body in this time. Kisuke can’t be sure they would have even ended up in the same time period, if Ichigo had survived, not with the dubious nature of the Dangai they’d been dumped into. 

 

_ Treachery, _ his mind whispers.  _ Betrayed. _

 

It’s probably even true. The Central 46 had no love for either of them, not by that point. He knows the time stream probably tore apart his old body--it’s almost certainly only luck that he managed to land in his own in this time, instead of being simply disintegrated entirely. But that means that Ichigo’s chances… well. 

 

Ichigo would not want him to waste this chance. Kisuke will honor that as best he can. 

 

First, though, he needs to get out of here. He cannot afford to wait for Yoruichi to save him--he needs to get to Aizen before he’s banned from Soul Society for the next century. If he remembers correctly, Tessai is just down the hallway. Last time, Kisuke had waited, having decided, however uneasily, to trust the system and hope that his word as a captain would at least let his voice be heard. This time around, he already knows that the Central 46 has been compromised. 

 

This time around, he will not wait.

 

His hands are bound behind him but the shackles around his wrists hang as loosely as he remembers. For once, Kisuke is grateful for his tendency to forget meals. With nary a grimace, he folds his thumb into his palm and clenches his fist, dislocating it and allowing him to slip his hand free from the cuff. He resets the digit with his teeth and pulls a slim piece of metal from his collar. 

 

Old Onmitsukido habits die hard. 

 

It takes only a moment to open the other shackle and barely longer to release the collar. The restraints are warded against kido from both inside and out, but the thought of manually opening the locks seems to have evaded the minds of the designers, and Kisuke exploits that ruthlessly now. His cell door is breached with similar ease and then he's moving, ghost-like, to Tessai’s cell. 

 

His friend looks startled to see him, but grimly expectant nonetheless. Kisuke has him out within minutes. An hour later, they’ve corralled Yoruichi (who’d been worryingly easy to locate) and Kisuke lays out his plan. Quite frankly, it’s absurdly risky, but Kisuke has  _ very little _ to lose at this point. It’s also very simple. Yoruichi and Tessai will get the Vizored and escape to the human world. Kisuke will take care of Aizen if at all possible, and then meet them there, assuming he makes it out. If he doesn’t…

 

Kisuke’s already given Yoruichi the Hogyouku and the instructions for how to stabilize the hollowfied shinigami. She very obviously has questions, not the least of which is the surety which directs his hands right now, but she trusts him enough to wait for answers until later. 

 

There’s a long moment where everyone is ready, but no one wants to leave. Finally, Yoruichi slaps affectionately at his shoulder. 

 

“Take care of yourself, Kisuke.”   
  


“You as well, Yoruichi-san, Tessai-san.”

 

Then they’re gone, and Kisuke takes a long moment to watch their backs. It’s interrupted by the harsh blare of the Seireitei alarms, and Kisuke almost laughs when his escape is announced to the entirety of the Gotei 13. He’s a little surprised about the “kill on sight” order, but Kisuke has over a century’s worth of experience on his younger self, and his near-prescient  intelligence has been tempered by an edge of cunning. He can play this game as well as any of them--better, even, as former Onmitsukido. 

 

Now, he just needs to get his hands on Aizen before Kisuke can properly make his escape. The Hogyouku isn’t awake and certainly isn’t in Aizen’s chest, so as long as Kisuke can get his hand on Kyouka Suigetsu, he can be sure he’s killing the proper person. Unfortunately, Aizen’s likely to be quite cautious at the moment, but Kisuke knows Aizen much better than Aizen knows Kisuke at this point in time. 

 

Kisuke shakes himself, shedding his captain’s robe and shoes without another thought, one hand palming the long knife he keeps hidden in the sleeve as he does. 

 

It’s time to hunt. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hah, have chapter 2~!

It’s a bit of an open secret in Division 2, but the Onmitsukido has small paths and shortcuts known only to them, scattered all over Seireitei. Where Division 4 has their sewer system, Onmi has much, much more. Kisuke takes full advantage of that now. Soi Fon will send someone after him, obviously, but as good as her troops are, Kisuke is just…  _ better. _ To a  _ hilarious  _ degree. He was the one who came up with the current training regime, but he’s had well over a century to improve on his techniques and he didn’t spend  _ all _ his time playing eccentric shopkeeper or mad scientist. 

 

Not even Yoruichi as she is now can match his current speed or stealth, and as good as she is, she has never matched him in sheer, lethal efficiency. 

 

Which means, very simply, that Kisuke in this time  _ has no equal. _

 

He doesn’t even bother to kill the first Onmitsukido team he encounters, just channels his reiatsu into a tightly controlled flare that drives them helplessly to their knees, then facedown. The last one slips into unconsciousness just as Kisuke is arming himself properly, helping himself to their weapons. 

 

He’s well aware that he doesn’t look like the Gotei’s tame captain anymore. He’s a killer, pure and simple, and with Ichigo’s death he has returned to the roots of what he has always been. 

 

Soi Fon finds him next. She only survives because Kisuke knows how Yoruichi favors her. He is still, perhaps, less gentle than he could have been. 

 

That, and he can’t afford her the time to alert anyone. Before she’s even aware of his presence he is behind her, striking precisely at the back of her neck. 

 

He’s gone before she hits the ground. He takes her Zanpakuto with him.

 

The rest of the Onmitsukido members simply flee if they see him, after that. 

 

Kisuke doesn’t try for Aizen, first. He needs a distraction if he wants to make it  _ that _ far, something to unsettle and put off. Something like Tousen’s death, for instance. 

 

The blind would-be captain is one of the finest reiatsu sensors in the entirety of the Gotei 13, but he doesn’t “see” Kisuke until after his throat has been slit. 

 

Kisuke hangs him above the entrance to the Fifth Division like a macabre banner and settles into the shadows to wait. 

 

Aizen will be confused by this. In this situation, he would go straight for Kyouka Suigetsu. Kisuke’s unusual independence from Benihime will unsettle him. In this, Aizen's cold mimicry of humanity will work against him; he cannot place himself in someone else's mindset. 

 

He will keep Gin close to him, once news of Tousen’s death reaches him, and he will prepare for a move against where Benihime is stored. 

 

That places him directly where Kisuke wants him. Aizen doesn't have quite the authority with the soutaicho that he will in a hundred years, but he could not be content to have someone else foil his enemy. He will be there, waiting. 

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Aizen is waiting for him near the entrance to the Division 2 headquarters. Gin is hovering by his side, usual smile nowhere in sight and about half as tall as Kisuke remembered. 

 

Kisuke has been watching them for nearly half an hour by then, naturally, but he can't move until he's absolutely sure that this is the true Aizen. And that means that he needs to get a hand on Kyouka Suigetsu.

 

For anyone else, this might be difficult. For Kisuke, well…

 

He gives Aizen just enough forewarning to draw his blade before he flashes forward and clamps his hand over Kyouka’s long edge, uncaring of how deeply she bites into his hand. 

 

The Soutaicho had been right, all those years ago. There was no mistaking the reiatsu of the sword Kisuke was in direct contact with. This really was Aizen. 

 

Kisuke is very nearly worried at how  _ easy  _ that had been. But the furious, barely worried snarl twisting Aizen's face is genuine. 

 

Now all Kisuke has to do is kill him. He raises his free hand, palm up, and begins to murmur an incantation he  _ knows _ Aizen won't recognize. 

 

With a final tug, Aizen tears Kyouka Suigetsu away from Kisuke, laying his hand open to the bone, but it's far too late to stop him. With a grim smile, Kisuke locks eyes and intones,

 

“Saishuutekina Taishoku (Final Severance).”

 

The resulting blast of energy is a void-dark purple edged in black, and Aizen leaps backwards, bringing Kyouka up to deflect the incoming bolt. 

 

The sword and the kido meet with a surge of wild reiatsu, and Kisuke watches without wavering. 

 

_ Checkmate. _

  
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^  
  


Aizen is screaming, a high pitched sound of absolute agony. Kyouka Suigetsu is flaking away into nothingness, dissolving inch by inch. 

 

“What have you done?  _ What have you  _ **_done!??!”_ **

 

The last remnants of Kyouka dissolve away from a shattered asauichi, and Aizen shudders. But he's not an opponent to be underestimated, even now, and with a howl of pain and fury he casts away the useless hilt and _ flings _ himself at Kisuke. Aizen is not known for his hakuda, since he usually scorns anything that physical, but he is no less a master of this craft than he is of any other. Furthermore, although Shunko is uniquely Yoruichi's, Aizen is exceptionally skilled at interspersing silent, lightening quick kido with his attacks. 

 

Kisuke keeps all this in mind, as he sways out of the way of the first blow and redirects the following byakurai harmlessly past his head. Aizen is good, very good. But Kisuke is still just _ better.  _ And _ angry _ . Oh, he knows that Aizen hasn't yet done everything that Kisuke wants him dead for, but Kisuke doesn't care. Because of  _ this man _ , Ichigo has died and revived and been hollowfied and fought in a war, has lost friends and family and been tortured and forced to grow up far too soon. 

 

Sure, Kisuke was responsible for a lot of that. He'll never deny that debt. But it was all for the sake of taking down  _ this man _ . Right here, Kisuke can end this before it ever begins, take the Visored and hide, make sure this Ichigo, if he ever exists, gets the life he should have had. Kisuke will watch over and protect him personally, if it comes to that.

 

But right now? It's very simple. 

 

Aizen is going to die.


	3. Chapter 3

Gin can’t  _ breathe _ . 

 

He knows there’s a difference between a captain and a lieutenant, the same way there’s a difference between a lieutenant and a civilian, but…

 

He hadn’t expected the gap to be  _ quite _ so large. 

 

Or maybe it’s just that he’s watching a standoff between monsters.

He remembers the terrified, defiant flare of Hirako-taicho’s reiatsu, out of control and lashing at his surroundings, but that weight has  _ nothing _ on what he’s experiencing now. 

 

Aizen had never shown what he was capable of, wrapped all his incongruously harsh reiatsu up in calm and mirrors, but Gin knows that Aizen is far stronger than the average captain. He would never have decided to toy with eight more-or-less captain-class shinigami if he weren’t capable of putting them all down.

 

It’s not  _ Aizen’s _ reiatsu that’s slowly crushing Gin’s lungs into his ribs, though. 

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Kisuke waits as Aizen pauses, panting. All he needs is an instant to get through the megalomaniac’s guard. Aizen will only wear himself out spending his rage and pain in the meantime. Kisuke would be content playing defense until Aizen slips, but something in him is  _ howling _ , his own fury carefully leashed but demanding retribution regardless. Almost carelessly, he shapes his reiatsu into a blade and  _ thrusts _ forward, manifesting it in a vicious shard of light that he’s never bothered to properly name. Aizen staggers, barely managing to deflect it with a palm-sized bakudo, and in the moment he’s off-balance, Kisuke  _ moves. _

 

He sways forward and down, knocking Aizen’s reflexive strike wide and leaving the would-be ruler completely open. 

 

Aizen jerks, his eyes going wide, but he’s too slow.

 

Kisuke twists, revealing the knife flattened against his forearm, and strikes with all the speed he possesses. 

 

The knife slams home through several layers of bone, piercing up through Aizen’s jaw and through his brain. 

 

Kisuke pulls him close, supporting the lieutenant’s suddenly limp body, and holds him up long enough to watch the last of the light leave Aizen’s eyes before he contemptuously jerks the knife free and crouches to wipe the blade off on the body’s haori. 

 

It’s only as he straightens that his previous laser-focus expands to include his surroundings, and Kisuke becomes aware of the violent spread of his reiatsu, crushing everything around him, including this timeline’s tiny version of Gin.

 

Gin, who spent most of his time in the Gotei 13 trying to get close enough to kill Aizen, who is pinned to the ground ten feet from Aizen’s body and watching Kisuke with wide eyes. 

 

Kisuke pulls his reiatsu close to him, leaving just enough to ensure Gin can't go for his throat as soon as he's within range, and wanders over. He  _ misses _ his geta and their disconcerting clicking, but being barefoot allows for complete silence, and he is too much of an assassin to fail to appreciate that particular advantage. Still, Gin watches him with all the wariness of a rabbit that just watched a hawk kill the snake that had entrapped it, even as Kisuke tucks the knife away and crouches down next to the boy's head. 

 

The look on his face is far too resigned for someone barely over a century old. 

 

^^^

 

Aizen is dead, as unceremoniously as you please. Tousen is also dead. Very dead. Gin remembers what was left of the corpse and shudders. He hopes that if Urahara-taicho feels the need to mutilate him, he will do so after he has killed him. Not that he would complain much either way. Aizen is  _ dead _ , and he can never hurt Ran again. For that, Gin would accept a century of torture. 

 

The man in question has never looked  _ less  _ like a captain, in Gin’s opinion, blood-spattered and vicious and focused like the edge of the blade he wields. He knows that Urahara used to be Onmi, was third seat of the Second before he transferred, but Gin has never before realized exactly what that  _ meant _ on such a visceral level, why half of Twelve flinched away from Urahara when he smiled. How much of a fool he and the rest had been, to be so easily blinded by a sheepish smile. 

 

Aizen should never have crossed this man, should never have let him see the experimental hollow hybrids and then turned and walked away. 

 

Gin can only be thankful that Urahara will kill him last, that he's gotten to watch Aizen be  _ destroyed _ by a barefoot, young, thin new captain without even a zanpakuto. 

 

The assassin crouches next to him and Gin tries not to close his eyes, determined to face his death with all the honor he couldn't afford to have in life. There is a brief moment of silence, and then,

 

“You know, brats like you shouldn't try to double-cross monsters. You should stick to worrying about brat things.” A hand gently  _ thwacks _ his forehead and Gin flinches despite himself. Then the pressure holding him down vanishes, and he looks up to see Urahara grinning mischievously down at him. “Go home to Matsumoto-chan, Ichimaru-kun.”

 

^^^^^^^^

 

Kisuke straightens abruptly, slipping his knife out of his sleeve and ignoring the way Gin, at his feet, is staring blankly at nothing. He suddenly has  _ much bigger _ problems. Namely, he's standing over a child with another corpse just a few feet away, and Unohana can be extremely protective of children. And, unfortunately for him, Unohana is approaching  _ rapidly. _ At least, out of all the captains, she's the least likely to deem Gin acceptable collateral damage. He braces himself, prepared to explain what he can or simply throw Gin at her and run, but she enters the clearing like a furious hurricane, smile nowhere in sight, and doesn’t even hesitate when she sees him.

 

He throws himself backwards just in time to miss the blade that would have taken off his head, leaving Unohana to pull Gin protectively behind her by the collar of his uniform. Kisuke steels himself--he’s seen her fight, but at least he hasn’t done anything to make her  _ too _ angry. Maybe he won’t have to fight her, personally. He hopes. 

 

While Kisuke and Unohana are facing off, though, the rest of the Gotei 13 arrives--all the captains and lieutenants currently not hollowfied, anyway. It’s still an impressive showing. Or at least, it would be if Kisuke couldn’t take on three-fourths of them at once and  _ win. _ The only Shinigami he expects trouble from are the Soutaicho, Unohana, and the Shusui/Juushiro tag-team, who never play fair even if they can’t match him for speed or lethality. If possible, he would like to avoid killing anyone; Ichigo has...Ichigo  _ had _ repeatedly drilled into him that not everyone was a potential target. If he has to fight without killing, though, escaping will get much more difficult. He wishes, futilely, that Benihime were with him; with her defensive capabilities, it would be easy to slip away unscathed. There’s no one currently between him and the Division Two headquarters, but any attempt at movement would bring the entire fragile standoff down on his head. 

 

The knife he’s holding looks laughable in the face of their might, but Kisuke will make it work. He  _ has _ to.

 

And then an orange-and-black meteor crash lands directly in between Kisuke and the array of officers facing him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet, guys. I'm just gonna...collapse. Over here. In the corner.
> 
> Does this count as a cliffhanger?


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one? Already? Goodness.
> 
> And these chapters keep getting longer--the first one was like, 750 words, then 1k words, then 1200 words, and now this one is 1500 words. I'm gonna die doing this, and I will die happy.

Unohana grabs Gin by the collar and throws herself backwards, slipping into Shunpo in her haste. She still is very nearly not fast enough to avoid the small explosion of rubble as a new crater forms. 

 

The newcomer isn't visible through the clouds of dust, but his presence is impossible to miss, even as tightly leashed as it is. Unohana restrains a tremor of something that might be excitement with all of her considerable self control. 

 

There's a moment of absolute silence, broken only by the sound of rubble settling. Then a groan echoes through the clearing, and the new arrival pushes himself to his feet with a scowl. 

 

“ _ Ow,  _ dammit, that fucking  _ hurt.  _ What the shit. Oy, Geta-boushi, you here?”

 

The last of the obscuring dust clears, and Unohana blinks, instinctively glancing over at Juushiro’s unofficial lieutenant to ensure that Kaien hasn't somehow managed to vanish and dye his hair in the last thirty seconds. But no, Shiba-san is there, looking as confused as anyone else.

 

The newcomer with long orange hair and Kaien’s face casts a dismissive glance over the arrayed force and then turns away from them as if they're no threat at all, ignoring the way Yamamoto puffs up as if he’s about to try and speak. He focuses on Kisuke, the flavor of his reiatsu going flat and tense. 

 

“Geta-boushi? Hey, Urahara-- Kisuke,  _ Kisuke _ , look at me, what’s wrong?”

 

Unohana watches as the boy moves over to where Urahara-taicho hasn't moved from his defensive position, knife angled outwards. The young Shinigami doesn't seem fazed in the slightest by the implied threat, entering the assassin’s range without fear. Gently, he lays a hand over the one holding the knife, and Urahara  _ flinches. _

 

“You're dead. How… Kyouka Suigetsu is  _ gone,  _ I  _ destroyed _ her,  _ you're not real.” _

 

The sheer level of blank pain in those words makes Unohana wince. She's always liked the younger captain, he's always been respectful, and his admittedly awkward relationship with his squad is superseded by the concern he shows for all of his subordinates. For that alone, she would have questioned the official story. Even today, he had spared Gin. Unohana knew her speed, and she had a fair idea of Urahara’s, and she knows very well that had he truly desired, Gin would be dead now. 

 

She wouldn't wish this pain on him. 

 

The new arrival closes his eyes briefly, looking equally pained, and then opens eyes that are glowing  _ gold.  _ Unohana has only an instant to brace herself before reiatsu  _ slams _ down on all of them, sending the best of the Gotei 13 to their knees. She catches herself with one hand, but the only others who manage to keep themselves from collapsing entirely are the Soutaicho, Ukitake, and Kyouraku. Urahara-taicho seems completely unaffected, however, and she raises her head against the pressure enough to see the cautious hope dawning in his eyes, followed by realization. 

 

All the energy drains out of him in an instant, and he slumps forward bonelessly, only to be caught gently by the shoulders. The knife clatters to the ground, unheeded, and Unohana watches as the man presses his forehead against the younger Shinigami’s shoulder. Over the silent roar of nearly-tangible reiatsu, she can hear him whispering, 

 

“I thought you were  _ dead _ .”

 

“I’m here, Kisuke. It’s okay. I’m  _ fine _ .”

 

Urahara looks up, a little helplessly, and the orange-haired youth leans down to press his forehead against Urahara’s with a fond smile. 

 

Unohana glances away, for a minute, feeling as though she’s intruding on a moment even more intimate than a kiss. Then a low chuckle rings through the clearing, and she looks back to see the pair straighten. 

 

“Really, Geta-boushi? I disappear for a while and your first reaction is to kill Aizen?  _ This _ is why Yoruichi says you should never be left alone for more than a few minutes at a time, you know.”

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Ichigo can’t help but look over at Aizen’s corpse for the fifth time. He can’t believe Aizen is actually  _ dead _ , but he knows Kisuke, and Kisuke is thorough. Aizen is dead. 

 

Aizen is also human, more or less, which isn’t really possible, but since they got dumped in the time stream, Ichigo figures they got spat out at some random point in the past. The old man is still alive, at least, so they’ve got to be farther back than a decade. Gin is alive, too, as a tiny silver brat peeking out from behind Unohana’s skirts. 

 

Just as he's about to ask, though, a sharp voice cuts in from behind him, hoarse with age. 

 

“Just what do you upstarts think you're doing?”

 

Ichigo blinks and looks back to see Yamamoto kneeling on the ground, one hand braced against Ryujin Jakka to support himself against the weight of Ichigo's reiatsu. In fact,  _ everyone _ is on the ground now, either prostrate or barely kneeling. 

 

… whoops. 

 

With effort, he reels his reiatsu back in. This Gotei 13 must not be as strong as the one he's familiar with, to be flattened so easily by the relatively low level of reiatsu he puts out unconsciously. Holding his reiatsu in like he's doing now is usually reserved for stealth missions or meeting with civilians. It feels a little like holding his breath.

 

Cautiously, Ichigo meets Yamamoto’s eyes. The wariness he sees there stings, but it doesn’t surprise him. The man has always prioritized the order and wellbeing of his organization more than that of any individual in it, and Ichigo has always been the Soutaicho's worst nightmare-- too much power to be controlled, and too willing to break with the system for those he considers friends. Sometimes, though, Ichigo thinks that Yamamoto sees everything that he  _ could _ have been, if he'd only trusted himself a little more instead of submitting himself to an extremely fallible higher power. 

 

This version of Yamamoto, though, has never met Ichigo, never fought beside him against a greater threat, and Ichigo knows that the man is already calculating how to dispose of him if necessary. A great deal lies on his answer, here, but the problem is… he has no idea what he and Kisuke are doing. 

 

He looks back at Kisuke, who straightens, face carefully blank in the presence of outsiders, and offers quietly, 

 

“This is one and a half weeks after the Visored’s hollowfication. Yoruichi-san and Tessai-san have taken the Visored to an initial location for stabilization, while I came after Aizen myself.”

 

That's… over a century. No wonder Gin is so small. But it means that all of their immediate problems are taken care of, so he and Kisuke should be able to get out and join the others. If Yamamoto lets them, that is. 

 

With a wry grimace, he turns to face the assorted officers of the Gotei 13. 

 

“I don’t suppose you’ll let us go if we say we mean no harm, will you?”

 

Yamamoto scoffs. 

 

“You are standing over the bodies of one of our trusted lieutenants, with a man who turned eight of our greatest warriors into mindless  _ beasts _ . He carries the zanpakuto of another officer around his waist. And you dare to tell me that you mean no harm.”

 

Ichigo  _ bristles _ even as Kisuke goes rigid. 

 

“That was  _ Aizen _ , you old fool! He was the one who was experimenting on your shinigami, and he’s had the Central 46 wrapped around his finger for  _ decades _ now. If we didn’t kill him now, he’d bring  _ war _ down on all of your heads!” 

 

Yamamoto lifts an unimpressed eyebrow at him. 

 

“And I’m sure you have proof of this. Somewhere.”

 

Ichigo growls. The Visored all saw Aizen and Tousen, working in concert, and most of them were aware enough to listen to Aizen’s gloating to Shinji. Unfortunately, though, that’s  _ theirs _ to tell, not Ichigo’s, and it’s not like Yamamoto is going to take Kisuke’s word for truth. 

 

Regretfully, that leaves Ichigo with no real way to break this stalemate. He’s not sure revealing that time shenanigans were involved is a good idea, either, and he's definitely not going to before he can consult with Kisuke.  _ Privately _ , thank you. 

 

He doesn't _ really _ want to fight the entirety of the Gotei 13 right now, though; Kisuke’s already pale complexion looks closer to ash, and there's a nasty wound on his right hand that's bleeding steadily. The sword at his side isn't Benihime, as the old man said, and Ichigo reorients himself. First things first.

 

Ichigo risks a moment to close his eyes and send out his senses. Reiatsu sensing has never been his strong suit, so he makes up for it with intensity of focus, long hours of practice, and sheer _ need _ . Kisuke is next to him, a beacon of familiarity that's wavering more than Ichigo would prefer. The cluster of Gotei’s strongest are indistinguishable clumps of brilliance. 

 

He reaches further. 

 

_ Ah. _ There she is, practically screaming to his senses with frustrated, helpless fury. Benihime has never enjoyed being unable to act, and the abrupt separation from her wielder has disoriented and enraged her. 

 

Well, that much, Ichigo can fix. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I don't know how -not- to cliffie. 
> 
> Y'all let me know what you want to see! I'm absolutely willing to see what I can work in if it tempts my imagination enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About half of this was written drunk on pain and alcohol. Don't judge me.

It’s a little difficult, controlling a reiatsu-guided flashstep through an area he hasn’t been through before, but Ichigo manages. Benihime is howling at him, no doubt demanding to be released and returned to Kisuke, and Ichigo takes her with all due reverence before flashing back to Kisuke's side. The entire enterprise takes less than a second before he's presenting her to Kisuke with both hands. Kisuke manages a shadow of a grateful smile and immediately discards the wakizashi in favor of returning Benihime to his side.

Yamamoto’s face twists in fury and his own reiatsu begins to rise in challenge.

“You dare disrespect me to my face, boy? This is a matter among Shinigami, and you continue to interfere. I will issue no further warning. Stand down, or be destroyed."

At his side, Unohana winces, but says nothing. Tiny Gin glances back and forth between them and Yamamoto, slitted eyes wider than usual. The rest of the Gotei 13 shuffles backwards uncertainly, attempting to put distance between themselves and the angry Soutaicho.

Ichigo...laughs. He can’t help it. None of his swords have materialized, he still can’t manage a kido or bakudo below fifty, and Kisuke is busy rebooting from assassin to person again. All of those disadvantages, though? They mean nothing. Less than nothing.

Compared to future Aizen, even the Soutaicho is a negligible threat. For one, he probably has less reiatsu than Ichigo, even were he to use his Bankai. For another, Ichigo is used to fighting an opponent so far out of his league that each instant of combat has to be flawless, because otherwise he’ll die. Yamamoto hardly counts as out of his league. Maybe once, as a naive young Ryouka invading Seireitei to free a friend. But not after almost ten years of war, of fighting and training every spare instant, constantly in danger. No, Yamamoto is hardly even a threat in comparison.

He is, however, becoming an impressive nuisance. Ichigo stops laughing abruptly to fix the old man with a hard look, letting Shiro bleed into his eyes for a glare he knows is terrifying. The soutaicho jerks back, shock and horror seepng into his reiatsu, followed closely by rage and well-concealed fear.

Ichigo clamps down with his own reiatsu, focusing it on Yamamoto with as much control as he can manage, staggering the man.

“No. Here’s my counteroffer. Don’t follow us, and I’ll let your organization stand.”

He turns to Kisuke, offering his arm for support. His shunpo is faster, and he can get them to the training area where Yoruichi and the others will be waiting. The assassin looks a little dazed, honestly, but he takes Ichigo's arm without hesitation. The show of unwavering trust warms Ichigo to his core, but now isn't the time for that. He reaches out with his senses, feeling for Yoruichi’s distinctly feline signature, and then he moves, ignoring the strangled shout from behind him.

He drops out of shunpo in the entrance of the grounds and everything immediately goes haywire.

It's only his years of training with Yoruichi and Kisuke that allows him to dodge the foot that would have taken off his head. He's about to try to explain when a snarl that sounds only barely human rips through the air. Ichigo himself is yanked backwards, left to watch Kisuke's back as the man plants himself between Ichigo and the perceived threat.

“Nake, Benihime!”

Yoruichi stops dead, staring uncomprehendingly at the crimson shield that's sprung up between her and Kisuke. Ichigo can't see Kisuke's face, but it must be terrifying, because Yoruichi sounds uncharacteristically hesitant as she queries,

“Kisuke?”

He doesn’t answer her, breathing perfectly even, Benihime a steady line aimed at her throat. Ichigo knows what’s happening, though, and presumably so does Yoruichi; she drops her hands and retreats to a safer distance, murmuring quiet reassurances as she does so. Ichigo creeps a little closer, shuffling his footsteps so as not to startle Kisuke. Carefully, he lays a hand on the man’s shoulder, feeling the wire-taut muscles there, ready to strike.

“Hey, Kisuke. It’s okay. We’re safe. That’s Yoruichi, remember, she’s not a threat. We’re in a safe place. I’m here. We’re both okay. There’s no threat here. It’s safe. Kisuke, c’mon, look at me. We’re okay, we’ve got this, we’re safe.”

Ichigo lets his reiatsu seep into the air, wrapping it around Kisuke like a cloak. The assassin shudders, some of the tension dropping out of him, but he doesn’t lower his sword. Ichigo takes it as his cue to continue, wrapping both arms around Kisuke's waist and resting his head against Kisuke's shoulder blade. Finally, Benihime’s point wavers and lowers. Awareness blinks back into his eyes, and Ichigo can feel the horror that tinges his reiatsu as he sheaths her. Carefully, he smooths it away with his own, and Kisuke turns toward him fully, burying his face in Ichigo's shoulder. Together, they sink to the ground, and Ichigo pulls Kisuke toward him until the assassin is almost resting in his lap. He meets Yoruichi’s wide eyes over Kisuke's shoulder and signs carefully in Onmi code,

“Talk later. Cover now.”

It's a language built for assassins, but the werecat seems to understand his meaning nevertheless. She leaves the blanket just outside of their safe zone, and Ichigo pulls it over Kisuke, who has started to shiver. Carefully, he tears off a strip of it to bandage Kisuke's hand with, at least until Kisuke can manage the Kaido himself, and the assassin lets him, as docile as a lamb. 

For a long time, they just sit there, curled into each other, and Ichigo has to admit that he needed this nearly as much as Kisuke. Seeing him be swallowed by the Dangai, grey eyes wide and terrified-- not for himself, but for Ichigo-- had been wrenching, and Ichigo had promptly thrown himself at where Kisuke had disappeared, hoping they'd come out together.

Honestly, as often as their plans went horribly wrong, Ichigo should be glad they're even alive, much less in the same century.

He buries his face in Kisuke's soft, ash-blond hair and tries not to think of what might have happened had the traitorous plot succeeded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr can be found at ladyadain, discord server can be had upon request.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tumblr is LadyAdain. 
> 
> Discord is Adain#0249
> 
> See you all there! <3

Kisuke loses time for a while. When he comes to, Ichigo is still holding him, gently murmuring into his hair-- reassurances to both of them, no doubt. His hand has stopped bleeding, and he stirs himself enough to begin the healing kido. While he’s healing himself, Ichigo shifts enough to sit them both up properly, stretching his back. 

 

Yoruichi is out of sight, but still on the edge of his reiatsu awareness, no doubt doing her version of concerned hovering. Beyond her, he can feel Tessai maintaining a sleep kido on the Visored, trying to keep them unconscious and their Hollow repressed until Kisuke--or Yoruichi, had worst come to worst--can stabilize them. Kisuke allows himself an amused little smile. If nothing else, Ichigo's assistance should allow the Visored to deal with their newly feral other halves much more easily this time around. Hopefully they can avoid the decades of despair and most of the suicide attempts before coming to terms with themselves. 

 

Importantly, though, they're all  _ alive _ in this time period. 

 

He nudges Ichigo, who groans like an old man, but lets them up regardless. There’s a blanket draped over both of them, and he folds it neatly and sets it aside. They’ve got  _ work _ to do, now. And--regretfully--some explaining to do. Ichigo gives him a rueful smile, guessing the line of his thoughts, and Kisuke allows himself to lean into the youth’s strength for a moment more before pulling himself upright. 

 

Yoruichi appears almost immediately, eyeing Ichigo with a cat's wariness. Ichigo grins at her, clearly enjoying having the upper hand for once, and beckons for her to join them. She does so, looking to Kisuke for an explanation for this odd, overpowered Shiba who has far too much of Kisuke’s trust. Kisuke winces. This explanation is going to push even  _ her _ suspension of disbelief, especially since Yoruichi in this time has never been acquainted with Kurosaki Ichigo’s unique ability to make the impossible a day-to-day occurrence. He rubs at the back of his head, offering her a sheepish smile, but before he can order his thoughts into words, Ichigo pipes up, blithely unconcerned with the traditional limits of reality.

 

“Ah, Yoruichi-san, we’re from the future.” 

 

There’s a long moment where both Yoruichi and Kisuke stare at him, and then Kisuke buries his face in his hands and mutters, 

 

“I don’t know you.”

 

Ichigo just tips his head back, laughing freely, and Kisuke hasn’t seen him do that since  _ Kensei _ died, one of the first casualties in the war. For the first time, it strikes him that being back in the past is probably a  _ blessing _ , to Ichigo, an opportunity to save everyone he failed before. And Aizen is dead, to boot, which means that there doesn’t even have to  _ be _ a war. No wonder Ichigo is so uncharacteristically lighthearted. 

 

Kisuke grins at Yoruichi, who is still boggling at Ichigo. Finally, she shakes her head and says,

 

“Well, he’s  _ definitely _ a Shiba.”

 

Ichigo snickers. 

 

“Yeah, my dad is Shiba Isshin. It’s...a long story, I’ll explain later. How are the Visored? I mean, the hollowfied Shinigami?”

 

Yoruichi squints at him, but since Kisuke continues to be unfazed by, well,  _ Ichigo _ , she seems to accept his word as truth for now, slipping easily into what Kisuke thinks of as her “work mode.”

 

“They haven’t woken up yet. Tessai is keeping them unconscious, but I don’t know how long he can hold it before he needs to sleep.”

 

Ichigo nods. 

 

“Okay, there are two ways to stabilize them. The first is with the... “ 

 

He trails off, glancing at Kisuke, who nods. He’s told Yoruichi about the Hogyouku. Not what it is, not fully, but at least part of what it does, and how to use it.

 

“Right, with the Hogyouku. That’s how it happened last time. They were fighting their Hollow halves until the day they died. They had to fight and defeat their inner Hollow, to suppress it, but every time they got too emotional or lost control, the Hollow would start fighting them again.”

 

Kisuke takes over from here--he invented this process, and damn if he’s not going to be proud of it.

 

“The other way we can do this, Yoruichi-san, is if we turn their inner Hollow into an Arrancar, and convince it to work  _ with _ them.”

 

Ichigo grins ferally, cracking his knuckles, Shiro and Ossan manifesting in his hands with a swirl of dark reiatsu, and picks up where Kisuke left off.

 

“And by  _ convince, _ he means  _ beat it into them _ .”

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^   
  
Tessai glances up when they enter, nods a greeting at all three of them, gives Ichigo a calm once-over, and returns to focusing on maintaining the sleep kido.

 

Tessai is  _ so fucking cool _ . Ichigo has missed his steadfast presence. 

 

Kisuke crosses and starts murmuring to Tessai, while Ichigo scrutinizes the unconscious Visored. 

 

He’s  _ never _ going to let Shinji get away with cutting his hair. Ever. 

 

They all look disconcertingly young, to be honest, despite the fact that fully-grown Shinigami don’t really age at all. Perhaps it’s just that Ichigo is used to seeing them worn-down and grim, fighting for their lives and war-weary. 

 

Once, a lifetime ago, they had protected him. This time around, Ichigo will protect them, he  _ swears _ it. 

 

Kisuke and Tessai are setting up barriers, moving a sleeping Visored into each. No doubt they’re going to allow him to fight them one-on-one. Which is nice, and all, even if Ichigo doesn’t actually need the help. On the other hand, though, the faster he beats their inner Hollow into the ground, the faster their instincts will realize that they have no chance of winning against Ichigo, and then and only then will they be able to listen more-or-less rationally. 

 

There’s a delighted humming in his soul, amplified three ways by his excited spirits, and finally just as Shinji stirs, Ichigo reaches deep within himself and  _ pulls _ . Shiro and Ossan stay inside--they’re content to experience this battle as his blades--but his other spirit would rather watch, if Ichigo’s going to be drawing on their power. 

 

With a quiet murmur, Muramasa manifests, only to drape themselves over Ichigo’s shoulder, pinning the disoriented Shinji-Hollow with an intense stare. After a moment, a ripple of purple reiatsu washes through the air and Shinji’s form wavers. A howl tears through the air, and then Shinji’s Hollow claws its way free from Shinji, who collapses bonelessly. Before it can turn on him, though, Ichigo is there, deflecting its claws away from Shinji’s prone body. It snarls at him, gold eyes meeting gold eyes, and then Ichigo brings his reiatsu  _ slamming _ down on it, effectively flattening it. 

 

Were Ichigo fighting a Shinigami, this would be the end of the fight. But this is a Hollow, a newly-born one at that, and it tears more desperate strength from nowhere to drag itself upward, back to its feet. The familiar pharaoh mask grins at him without humor, all of its limited intellect devoted to figuring out how to destroy this new threat. It’s one of the biggest failings of newborn Hollows--they don’t yet have the intelligence or common sense to run away that many of the older, stronger ones do. 

 

This Hollow, however, is different. It was born from the Hogyouku, takes its power from that instead of consuming other souls, and its potential is nearly as unlimited as the Hogyouku itself. All Ichigo needs to do is drive it to the point of evolution. And to do that…

 

He increases the flare of his reiatsu, tinging it with more of his hollow side, and Shiro crows in delight as Ichigo claws his mask across his face. The Hollow goes back down, shrieking in denial and frustration as Ichigo stalks closer, the easy stride of a predator. Just as he’s raising Ossan for a strike--to remove a limb, not to kill--the shrieks change pitch, and the Hollow  _ shoves _ itself back up with determination. The eyes on him are assessing, this time, more intelligent, and a moment later Ichigo is staring down a growing Cero. 

 

He laughs, rough and dual-toned, and  _ eats _ the thing. His Quincy abilities add it to his reserves as another drop in the reservoir, and then Ichigo returns one of his own. The massive black-and-red Cero carves its way through the floor and the Hollow alike, leaving it with a gaping  _ mess _ where its shoulder and side should be. The Hollow howls in pain and fury, but Ichigo has gotten what he was hoping for, and the wound is already sealing off. 

 

Forcing a Hollow through all stages of evolution at once is a  _ mad _ concept. Absolutely insane. Naturally, that’s why it worked, at least according to Kisuke, who had run calculations for  _ weeks _ and finally given up and chalked the discovery up to Ichigo Being Ichigo. The young, temporarily-Hollowfied Shinigami on their side of the war had certainly appreciated the increase in power and control they were afforded, and several of them had chosen not to return to the way they had been. Now, Ichigo can ensure that Shinji and the others will have all the power they could ever use at their disposal. Not that he thinks they’ll need it, not with Aizen dead already, but by now, Ichigo has a pathological need to ensure the safety of those people he considers “his.” This is the best way he can think of. 

 

The high-speed regeneration finishes its work and the Hollow circles, warier and more calculating now. Ichigo lunges forward, slowing himself enough to be just  _ slightly _ faster than the Hollow can keep up with. It parries with a snarl, lashing out itself, and Ichigo lets its claws bounce harmlessly off his skin. As soon as it shows signs of being able to keep up with his rapid attacks, though, Ichigo redoubles the pressure, driving it to its knees. They’re getting close to the mix of strength, intelligence, and sheer frustration he needs, Ichigo thinks. He bleeds more killing intent into his reiatsu, more bloodlust, and the pinned Hollow goes quiet, struggling desperately as Ichigo approaches again, fear seeping into the gold-on-black eyes.

 

It’s the tipping point. The Hollow shudders, reaching up with both hands to claw at its own face.

  
With a crack that echoes incongruously loudly, its mask  _ shatters _ . 


	7. Chapter 7

Shinji can honestly say that he hadn't expected to wake up again, after passing out with a mockingly delighted Aizen standing over him, a hollow clawing its way out of his insides. He thinks he remembers someone else showing up, but he can't be sure. Carefully, he flexes his wrists. He's unbound, but Shinji isn't sure that means much at this point. His reiatsu sense informs him that he's enclosed in one hell of a barrier, and there are two others in the cage with him. It can't stretch beyond that.

 

He wonders if he's meant to kill them for one of Aizen's little tests. Or they, him. Cautiously, he opens his eyes. His cellmates are talking quietly, seated crosslegged on the ground. One is a young--too young, he probably hasn’t even been to the Academy yet--Shiba, and the other… is a hollow. An Arrancar, no less, the remains of a pharaoh’s crown resting easily across its brow.

 

The Shiba seems utterly unconcerned. Perhaps he has no idea what their cellmate is. He doesn't seem to be a shinigami, at least-- no swords in sight, and Shinji can barely feel his reiatsu. He's sitting within grabbing range of the Arrancar.

 

Shinji doesn't know why it hasn't attacked, yet, but he'll be damned if he lets some civilian _child_ die before he does. He comes to his feet with as menacing a snarl as he can possibly manage, staggering forward to drag the kid behind him. His reiatsu feels off, _wrong_ , and he daren’t use it for fear of trapping the Shiba in a cell with _two_ monsters. Sakanade is still with him, though, and he levels her at the Arrancar’s throat, daring it to make the first move.

 

It doesn't move, though. Instead, it smirks at him, knowing and almost proud. Behind him, the Shiba _laughs,_ and Shinji suddenly remembers Aizen's propensity for illusions. He stiffens, almost surprised when the expected knife to the back _doesn't_ come, and then his weakened limbs fail him and he wavers, slumping against the stone wall of the cell. It's a good wall. Solid. Maybe he'll just… lean here for a minute.

 

Nothing makes sense at all. The Arrancar is still watching him, looking smug, and the Shiba wanders over to drop a hand on top of its head, ruffling the long, bone white hair.

 

“I told you he'd react like that, didn't I?”

 

The hollow nods without looking away from Shinji, directing a halfhearted snarl at the offending hand.

 

“Course he did, you didn't need ta tell me that, he's _my_ shinigami.”

 

Finally Shinji can find words again.

 

“Wait a minute, what do ya mean by that? I ain't anybody's.”

 

The Arrancar sighs gustily, sounding like anything _but_ a soul-devouring monster, and suddenly stands to come crouch in front of Shinji instead. He flinches backwards against the wall before he can catch himself, and isn't that just pathetic. He can't even raise Sakanade. The pale being in front of him continues to fail to hurt him, though, and Shinji wants to _sob_ in confusion.

 

“Yeah, boss, ya kinda are. You're my shinigami. And me.. dontcha see anything ya recognize?” It grins at him, wide and full of teeth, and Shinji would know that smile _anywhere_ , practiced it in the mirror a thousand times when he was younger.

 

“That's impossible.”

 

He can hear the shock in his voice, but he's looking at himself in monochrome. He's allowed to be a little shocked.

 

“Surprise?”

 

Shinji swallows hard.

 

“This is… Aizen did this. Didn't he?”

 

The expression on the Hollow’s face almost _softens_.

 

“Yeah, sorta. He took all the dark bits of you, the stuff you’d never show in public, the kind of thing you push away, and he turned them into...well.” It--he?--gestures to himself. “You see. But instead of leaving me a ravening beast that wants to destroy everything, this bastard went and turned me into a _person_.”

 

The Shiba cackles unashamedly, picking up where the Hollow has left off.

 

“I just...gave it a little push. And now you’re you!”

 

The Arrancar looks back at Shinji, the first bits of uncertainty creeping into his expression.

 

“I was born from you--desperation, rage, fear, all of it. I _am_ you. I want everything you want, but _more_. Just like Sakanade, I’m a...part of you now. I can give you power, or you can shut me out. So, that’s how it is.”

 

He lifts his chin and thrusts a bone-white hand out in Shinji’s direction.

 

“Partners?”

 

Shinji drapes a hand over his eyes and thumps his head back against the wall, laughing helplessly.

 

“You can’t expect me to just _accept_ something like that, y’know. No one in their right mind would listen to that.”

 

His other hand comes up to clasp the proffered one.

 

“But hell, I ain't ever pretended to be sane.”

 

He and his counterpart grin at each other for a moment, and then his hollow simply… dissolves. Shinji can hear him laughing,  though, in counterpoint to Sakanade’s low grumble, so he's not too worried.

 

The orange-haired Shiba gives him a delighted smile, looking for all the world like Shinji has done him proud, and reaches down to offer him a hand up.

 

The barrier around them comes down with an easy wave of his hand, and Shinji gives in to the urge to boggle a little. They're in a massive, sky-painted underground cavern. Other small barrier cells line part of one wall, no doubt holding the others Aizen had gotten to. And oh, Shinji would _love_ to have a conversation about who this brat is, why any of them are alive, and _is that Urahara Kisuke over there?_

 

“How do you feel about watching while I fix the others?”

 

Later. He can have that conversation later.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Shinji can’t believe what he’s watching. Shibas in general have a bad tendency of being too powerful for their own good, but this one is in a league of his own. He’s also got Muramasa standing off to the side, radiating a sense of smugness as they watch their...wielder? Tear into the others’ inner hollows. It’s the single most overwhelming display of power Shinji’s ever seen, and _he_ remembers watching the Soutaicho and Unohana face off a time or two. None of the hollows can even _touch_ him, and he’s effortlessly beating them down and forcing them to improve or die.

 

It’s terrifying. Shinji kind of wants to throw this guy at Aizen to see what would happen. Except no, he doesn’t, because no matter how much he hates Aizen, he wouldn’t sacrifice a kid to see it happen, even-- _especially_ \--a kid with power oozing out of his ears like this. Shinji can’t imagine that ending well.

 

Soon enough, all the hollows are defeated, more or less, shattering their own masks and standing up, becoming _Arrancar_ , and Shinji can’t tell if he’s more awed or horrified. The brat takes it all in stride, and then he hauls each one off by the collar to drop them in a cell with their Shinigami--if his own hollow is to believed. The Shiba vanishes into a cell, presumably to referee the first meetings, and Shinji wanders over past a lounging Muramasa to sit next to Kisuke.

 

The captain--ex-captain now, probably, if he’s done what Shinji thinks he has--glances over at him and offers a small, welcoming smile with nary a trace of the skittishness that has marked every last one of their interactions to date.

 

Kisuke meets his eyes, and Shinji knows immediately that whatever has happened, it’s beyond his understanding. Kisuke’s eyes… they’re _old_. Not with age, but experience and hardship. There has always been a core of iron in the young man, but now it has been tried, tempered. Steeled. This is not the boy he knew, sheepish and unsure of himself. This man smiles at him, sharp and knowing, and Shinji almost— _almost_ —reconsiders his question. But he can’t not know, not after thinking he was never going to wake again.

 

Quietly, he asks,

 

“What happened? After Aizen… after I passed out?”

 

Kisuke tips his head back and stares at the high, blue-painted ceiling, his bangs covering his eyes.

 

“Aah, Shinji-san, it is good to see you again.”

 

That’s not an answer, not even close, but before he can needle a response out of the younger man, Kisuke looks directly at him and starts talking.

 

The following story is almost beyond belief, except Shinji can see it perfectly. Kisuke has never cared for rules—they’re things to avoid getting caught breaking, but if necessary, they’re hardly going to stop him. Forbidden transportation kido and a desperate week spent trying to reverse what Aizen had done before the Gotei discovered it and put them all down. A mockery of a trial and a desperate flight to the Transient World. A century of exile until Aizen reveals him and a war that forces all of them to forget any ingrained prejudice to even have a hope of survival. And then, being betrayed. Dumped into the Dangai, only instead of being torn apart, Kisuke landed in his old body, only days before the initial trial.

 

At which point, the former assassin had apparently decided that common sense and timeline preservation were for lesser mortals, and wandered off to kill Tousen and Aizen.

 

The casual way Kisuke drops _that_ tidbit into conversation makes Shinji wonder exactly what atrocities Aizen had committed, in this nebulous future-that-wasn’t. He doesn’t ask. Kisuke doesn’t tell.

 

“And your, uh, partner over there? The Shiba?”

 

Kisuke’s not smiling, hasn’t smiled since he started his explanation, but something in his face softens terribly at the topic change, and Shinji thinks suddenly, _Oh._

 

“He’s… not actually supposed to exist yet. How he survived the Dangai is beyond me. But that’s Kurosaki-san for you. Everything about him is an anomaly.”

 

“Kurosaki? I thought—“

 

“His father is Shiba Isshin. He married a human woman and took her last name. A Quincy, actually.”

 

Shinji blinks back over at the glowing barriers that Kurosaki disappeared into and thinks he understands, a little.

 

“Was he involved in the war?”

 

“He was our trump card, really. Every time we thought we were going to lose, backed into a corner, he pulled something new out of nowhere and saved us. Again, and again, and again. He matched a _god_ , Shinji-san. And even then, it wasn’t enough. We were dying, one by one, getting picked off. And the Gotei, or what was left of it, started thinking it might be better to give in, give Aizen what he wanted, rather than being exterminated completely.”

 

“That’s why they...?”

 

“Probably. Either that, or Aizen got to whoever was running the Senkaimon at the time.”

 

There isn’t really much to say to that. They sit quietly for a minute, watching the barriers. Then suddenly Muramasa straightens up from their slouch, coming to something approximating attention, and the first barrier falters and vanishes as the Shiba—Kurosaki-san—leads Hiyori through it. She looks fine. A little angry, actually, but that’s unsurprising. It’s her usual cover for deeper emotions, things that might make her vulnerable. Shinji knows her pretty well; beneath the anger, he can pick out confusion and fear and something deeply contemplative. Kurosaki-san leads her over, smiling broadly, and plops her down next to Kisuke. Hiyori hisses at him, a threatening noise, but Kisuke just smiles broadly at her and rests a hand on her head with startling tenderness.

 

“Good to see you again, Hiyori-san.”

 

Kurosaki has vanished back into the next barrier, and Shinji fills Hiyori in on the current news, since Kisuke doesn’t seem to be inclined to talk much more than he already has.

 

Naturally, her first reaction is to curse at Kisuke for killing Aizen before she got to have a go at him. Kisuke just listens quietly, a nostalgic little smile on his face, and Shinji has the sudden, terrible certainty that Hiyori had, once, gone up against Aizen, with disastrous results.

 

He wonders how many of them actually survived, up to the point where Kisuke and Kurosaki-san got sent back. It’s not a reassuring thought.

 

 

 

One by one, the rest of the Visored are at least temporarily reconciled with their hollows. Ichigo isn’t quite naïve enough to assume that the newly hollowfied Shinigami would remain permanently at peace with their new aspects, but he hopes to have alleviated much of the initial tension. They’re all gathered in a knot by the entrance to the cave, each of them eying him, Kisuke, and each other with a vague mix of curiosity and suspicion. For all that they’ve been informed of the goings-on, they don’t seem certain that they’re willing to simply accept such a neat explanation. It was, as Kensei flatly stated, _convenient_. Kisuke looks more tired than hurt by the implication that he would do such to them, and Ichigo wonders if he’d had to deal with this last time, as well.

 

To be fair, he would also be skeptical and angry if he had had a confusing, nightmarish experience, passed out, and woke up again only to be told that over a week had passed, was now no longer what he was, and would have to leave his life and live on the run. Put like that, actually, he was surprised any of them were taking it as well as they were. The group of new Visored were already looking to Shinji, as the oldest and most experienced of them, for their cues, and he was handling things with…remarkable aplomb. Somehow, Ichigo suspects that there’s more going on there than the confident, calm persona the former captain is adopting, but now is the wrong time to press.

 

Yoruichi has disappeared—she’s out scouting the situation with the Gotei after Kisuke and Ichigo kicked the proverbial wasps’ nest. Tessai, drained from the sleep kido and the containment bakudo, has shifted to rest against the wall, and though Ichigo doubts he’s asleep, he’s doing a good job of appearing so.

 

Which leaves Kisuke and Ichigo to corral eight unhappy, slightly panicky Visored, and Kisuke has had far too much stress today already.

 

So Ichigo steps forward, interrupting the consistent barrage of questions, and lets Shiro leak into his voice and reiatsu as he snarls,

 

“That’s enough! Sit down, and shut up. Kisuke is exhausted, and you’re all not going to help anything with the interrogation. There’s nothing we can do for now, except rest and regain our strength, until Yoruichi comes back. Do you understand?”

 

As one, eight mouths clamp shut, and Ichigo finds eight startled ex-Shinigami sitting at his feet.

 

Shinji speaks for all of them when he looks up at an equally surprised Ichigo and demands,

 

"What tha  _fuck_ , Kurosaki-san?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm so sorry for the wait. Life has been insane and awful for the last few months, but I'm not quitting on anything, I promise. Went through and made a list, even, so look for other things to be updating over the next few days. I hope.

Yoruichi loses herself in her speed. She's good at handling weird; it comes with the territory as far as Kisuke is concerned, and she's been dealing with that for decades by now. This is an entirely new brand of what the fuck, though, and she has no idea how to handle it. 

 

She heard Kisuke's explanation to Shinji, no doubt as he intended, and she, who practically raised him, hears what he's not saying. Or, well, he's actually being pretty straightforward for once, but she can hear the emotions behind the carefully modulated tone. 

 

She never realized how little she missed the bleakness of his Rukongai youth until she heard echoes of it in his elder self. She doesn't want to know what managed to put it back, after the Onmitsukido and captaincy didn't even faze him. 

 

She'd have killed Aizen herself, for that alone. 

 

Yoruichi isn't his anchor anymore, either. The knowledge warms and discomfits her simultaneously. She'd sent him off to his captaincy in the hopes that he'd grow more able to stand on his own, away from her. Now he's literally  _ returned from the future _ with a Shiba-descended partner who complements and strengthens him without taking away his agency, in a way Yoruichi had never been able to do. 

 

She's a little jealous, actually, even though it's everything she'd ever hoped for her surrogate brother.

 

She missed it, when he finally grew up. She wonders if her older self stayed with him to the end. She hopes so. The Shiba is far too young to have been there for the entirety of their first exile. She doesn't like to think that Kisuke spent those years alone. 

 

Yoruichi gives herself a little shake and picks up the speed a little, pushing herself closer to the top limits of her shunpo. The Gotei 13 is swarming like an anthill, Yamamoto directing things from the center. He's retreated to Division 1, sending all of Seireitei into lockdown. His headquarters has turned into a bristling fortress, the seated members of the division stationed evenly around the perimeter. Division 2 is out in force, patrolling Seireitei and hunting for the threats. 

 

The captain-commander looks like he's preparing for  _ war.  _

 

Yoruichi wants to laugh. If Kisuke wanted them all dead, they already would be. If the Shiba-- if Ichigo wanted them dead, this certainly wouldn't stop him. 

 

She slips between two Onmi members--they’re good, but she trained them; she’s  _ better _ \--and into the large building serving as headquarters. She flits through security seals that haven’t yet been adjusted to keep her out and perches high in the shadowy rafters above where the Soutaicho is holding his war council. 

 

And make no mistake, it  _ is _ a war council. The Commander stands at the head of the room, back straight, a blaze in his eyes that Yoruichi is too young to remember but recognizes from her grandfather's stories of the Quincy War. There is no frail old man in this room--only a hardened warrior. Shunsui and Juushiro flank him, looking uneasy but determined. The rest of the captains have fallen into rank, a pitiful showing without half of their members. Unohana stands apart, Shinji's little silver third seat at her side. He’s clearly being interrogated. Discomfort is written harshly in the line of his thin shoulders, but he holds his head proudly nevertheless as he recounts the events of the Hollowfication and Aizen’s demise. Yoruichi pushes down a little hint of pride and forces herself to pay attention. Gin would make a good assassin. 

 

They’re not covering anything Yoruichi doesn’t already know, really. Just that Aizen was a dick. His zanpakuto created thorough illusions. He wanted to overthrow Seireitei. Tousen and Gin had worked for him--Tousen for some twisted idea of Justice, Gin in hopes of assassinating him. The reactions of the Gotei 13 to the deliberate hollowfication of the captains, the plans for the future, and Aizen’s dealings with the Arrancar are all deeply amusing. They act as if they themselves aren’t capable of atrocities. More concerning are the questions targeting Kisuke. 

 

No, he never worked with Aizen. 

 

Yes, Urahara was there the night of the hollowfication. He was trying to stop the hollowfied captains and lieutenants from changing fully into hollows.

 

Yes, Aizen framed Urahara-taicho for the entire thing.

 

No, he did not know how Urahara had killed Aizen. (A knife ta the brain seemed ta work just fine, Soutaicho, sir.)

 

No, he didn't know why Urahara hadn't killed him.

 

No, Gin had never seen the orange-haired man before today. 

  
  


Eventually the questions run dry and the Soutaicho gives Gin a single, grim look. 

 

“I cannot speak for the Central 46. But you have done great evil for a good that may never have come to be. I cannot condone this. But neither can I condemn it. I will place you on probation under Unohana-taicho’s care until such time as you can have a proper trial.”

 

Gin ducks his head briefly, his expression unreadable. But some of the tension drains out of his tiny shoulders when Unohana sets her hand on his head, and he steps back to stand at her shoulder. 

 

The Soutaicho then turns to look at Kaien, holding Juushiro’s place in line, and raises a questioning eyebrow. Kaien jerks back a little and visibly stops himself from flailing, raising both hands defensively. 

 

“Hey, don't look at me. I've never seen him before in my life. If he's a Shiba, he's probably a bastard child or something. We don't have anybody with that color hair, not that I know of.”

 

The elder Kuchiki gives him an incredulous look. 

 

“You do not keep track of your clan members?”

 

Kaien gives a vague hand wave. 

 

“Well, mostly? But we get a lot of bastard children, especially from the wander years. And nobody is going to be able to keep track of who slept with whom, not out in Rukongai. Stuff just… happens.”

 

Dear god, his cheeks are faintly pink. Yoruichi wants to  _ pinch them. _

 

Ginrei splutters, looking absolutely scandalized, and then turns bright red when Unohana raises a calm eyebrow at him. 

 

Oh, she  _ has _ to know what’s going on there. 

 

Yoruichi shakes herself. Professionalism now, blackmail material later. 

 

Yamamoto looks...tired. She half expects him to give an exasperated warning of, “children,” but he says nothing, merely pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. 

 

“So, we don’t know if he’s a Shiba. We don’t know what sort of training that he’s had. We don’t know what weapon he uses. We don’t even know if he’s a Shinigami. All we know is that he’s ridiculously powerful, and he likes Urahara-taicho. Or possibly dislikes-- _ disliked _ \--Aizen-fukutaicho. We don’t know  _ anything _ , except that he showed up when Urahara-taicho was cornered, proceeded to break through the wards and traps around the Second Division as if they weren’t there, and then vanished along with Urahara. We can presume, by now, that Tsukabishi Tessai and Shihouin Yoruichi have joined them, along with the hollowfied former members of the Gotei 13.”

 

Soi Fon’s tiny back goes absolutely rigid, betrayal creeping across her features, and Yoruichi wants to go to her, tell her  _ everything _ , but she’ll have to do that later, if Ichigo deems her safe enough to bring into the fold. 

 

And my, what a telling thought that is, that she’s accepted his strength and leadership in a way she hasn’t since her father died--possibly since even before. 

 

Either way, the war council is wrapping up. They’ve covered everything they can, changed guard rotations and heightened security, and they’re sending out patrols under the watch of Shunsui and Juushiro, but they don’t know anything, and they’re starting their search outside of Seireitei proper, no doubt assuming the intruders had run, rather than holed up in their very heart. 

 

Yoruichi is almost tempted to go talk to Unohana and Gin, really, but she’s not keen on tempting fate with one of the only shinigami she  _ knows _ could stop her in her tracks before speed even became an issue. She doesn’t like not having anything to report back, though. It feels like a failed hunt, and her feline subconscious is highly displeased about that. Maybe she should go take a look around the fifth division, see if she can find anything Aizen was hiding that the Gotei might have missed.

 

Yes, she rather thinks she’ll do that. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got my first full-time job. The pay is shit, the hours are long, and until I become a Rich Famous Author and can get out of my current living conditions, it will do. 
> 
> Please, forgive the lack of writing recently. I will try to resume. This remains my first attempt since procuring the job. Bear with me, I implore you.

Hiyori is perfectly calm. 

 

No, really. 

 

For the first time that she can remember, she's completely, totally at ease. She's not terrified or furious or desperate. She's just happy. It's weird. She hasn't felt like this in… maybe _ never.  _

 

She'd probably enjoy it more if it weren't because she's sitting at the feet of the idiot who saved her, the newborn hollow in her chest purring a delighted  _ alpha alpha alpha _ at her. 

 

Don't get her wrong, her brain is busy being shocked and she'll rage about it later, but right now her instincts are utterly satisfied and content. She feels _ safe.  _

 

She doesn't like it. 

 

Around her, the other newborn mix breeds are clearly reacting the exact same way, even Shinji, the eldest and most powerful of them. They're all staring at Kurosaki in shock. He, in turn, stares right back, looking equally disconcerted. 

 

Urahara, off to the side, starts to snicker just as Shinji begins to demand an explanation. 

 

“Ah, Kurosaki-san, you remember what we theorized about the social hierarchy of the more sentient Hollows?”

 

Kurosaki nods distractedly, golden eyes still fixed on the group in front of him. 

 

“You mean the pack structure that lets them form Fraccions and basically keeps them from all eating each other?”

 

Hiyori blinks. Sentient hollows beyond the initial Menos? Like-- Arrancar? She's heard of them, quietly, but not before being introduced to the one that was now part of her had she seen one. To have enough information to be running studies on _ social hierarchy _ rather than escaping with their lives… she already knew that Urahara was a monster, but this is power on a different level entirely. 

 

Urahara doesn't respond to Kurosaki's query, just waits, and is rewarded by a horrified yelp a few seconds later. 

 

“You're not saying-- Geta-boushi,  _ no _ . No way.”

 

The assassin is still laughing, one hand poised delicately over his lower face. It's not a mannerism she's familiar with, but Urahara manages it with the ease of long practice. 

 

Hiyori feels a sudden surge of sympathy for Kurosaki, having to put up with this idiot. 

 

Kurosaki sits down with the rest of them, abruptly, and Hiyori kicks Shinji in the back as he starts to snicker as well. It doesn’t deter the grinning blonde in the slightest as he swoons dramatically toward their savior-leader.

 

“Oh,  _ yes _ , Alpha-sama, please take care of us, Alpha-sama, anything you  _ like _ , Alpha-sama--”

 

Hiyori hits him over the head this time, and he yelps and faceplants into the dirt at Kurosaki’s feet. 

 

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

 

Shunsui is worried. Despite his carefree tendencies, this is not actually that unusual, especially lately. Part hollow shinigami and traitorous officials, and now an unknown Shiba with more power than anyone he's ever met, and that's _ including _ his mentor. 

 

He doubts this is a good thing. He can tell Juushiro is affected by the stress, too-- his friend has dark circles under his eyes, his complexion is paler than natural, and Shunsui has seen him suppressing a hacking, painful cough at least twice. 

 

He has to remind himself that a lawless rampage to murder everything that causes Juu stress  _ is not the answer _ . For one, Juu and Yama-jii would both kill him, and for another, he doesn't actually think he could take either Urahara or the new Shiba in a fight. He might have more reiatsu than Urahara,  _ might _ , but he knows damn well that the captain-assassin needn't rely on such things at all. 

 

The Shiba could just flatten him with reiatsu alone and walk away. Or kill him at leisure. 

 

Shunsui hasn't felt young since Yama-jii finished his rampage and decided to start a military, but--

 

He's acutely aware of how powerless they all really are against this new force, more so than anyone else who didn't live through the turmoil of the first years and the Quincy extermination. Unohana knows, but she probably doesn't overly mind, the madwoman. Yama-jii obviously knows, but the Soutaicho has long since tempered his roughest edges and submitted himself to the whims of the Central 46. Shunsui has quite a few opinions about that, but he has plenty of practice holding his tongue by now. Even if he'd rather trust his captain's judgment than that of a handful of spoiled nobles with no idea how life works. 

 

Anyway the point is, they're all worried and on edge and it's doing nobody any good at all. Especially Juushiro. 

 

The fact that half their captains and lieutenants are are now either dead, deserted, or abominations doesn't help either. Gods, even if there is no war, Shunsui still might die. The sheer amount of _ paperwork _ will kill him. Top it off that he's torn between terrified and furious at what happened to Lisa, to one of  _ his,  _ and he's not happy either.

 

The Soutaicho is insisting that they report to the Central 46, after the immediate threat response has been established, and Shunsui wants to groan. Frightened nobles who sense a threat to their power aren't at all likely to attempt to resolve things peacefully, or even bother to see reason at all. 

 

Their power hungry, domineering, close minded way of thinking is going to get them all killed, if Yama-jii insists on obedience over all else. He will order the Guards to their deaths, and they will go. 

 

All to make an enemy of a party that hasn't seemed even slightly hostile. 

  
  
******************************************************************************************  


Yoruichi drops out of shunpo into absolute chaos. Hiyori is attempting to throttle a laughing Shinji, which isn't new, but Muramasa-- formerly the zanpakuto of a disgraced Kuchiki, how the fuck did _ that _ happen--and a bleached lookalike of Ichigo are tumbling over each other, rolling on the ground like very large, very deadly children. Captains and lieutenants scatter like startled chickens, trying to get out of the way. Ichigo has both hands over his face, and Kisuke is watching with a smirk she knows in her _ bones.  _ She picks her way through the impromptu battlefield to stand at his side, and after a moment he answers her unspoken question. 

 

“Ah, Muramasa-san intercepted Shiro-san when he tried to, hm, join the fun? 

 

… and I might have implied that Shiro-san, himself, was not the alpha, since he too follows Kurosaki-san’s lead.”

 

Yoruichi snorts, resting her chin on Kisuke's shoulder as they both watch the chaos. Lisa has enthusiastically begun taking potshots at Shinji, Hiyori, and Ichigo's two spirits indiscriminately. Mashiro, never one to be left out, has tackled Kensei, and the two are now… well, Mashiro is wrestling. Kensei is doing a stunning impression of a brick wall. Love and Rose are laughing themselves sick, and Hachi is standing off to the side, hovering and fluttering like a nervous butterfly.

 

Something blossoms in her chest as she watches them, something bright and warm and airy. 

 

It feels, she realizes, like it used to when it was just her and Kisuke and Tessai, younglings trying to navigate politics and power and above all survival, them against the world. 

 

It feels like home.


	10. Chapter 10

Unohana's hands are trembling. 

 

It's an interesting sensation, she thinks as she regards them impassively. She's not here to fight, but her body betrays her, knowing that there's a stronger enemy then any she's ever faced in front of her. 

 

Survival instincts are curious things. 

 

Beside her, Gin is practically vibrating with restrained tension. He's been quiet all day, even more so than usual. 

 

His hearing in front of Central 46 had not gone well. The Council had been nearly rabid, looking for someone to blame for the disaster, and Gin, child though he was, was the only scapegoat they had at hand. Unohana had escorted him out even as Shunsui and Juushiro had stood to plead for clemency. The final decision would likely not be handed down for several hours yet. 

 

Which gave Unohana just enough time to implement her not-so-clever plan. 

 

It mainly consisted of dumping Gin on the mercy of Urahara and his coterie, under the premise that Urahara had spared the boy once before, and Central 46 certainly would not. 

 

She didn't _ like _ it, exactly, but she didn't condone killing children, either. This was her best option. 

 

Unohana clasped her hands gently in front of her, setting her zanpakuto on the ground, and led Gin forward into the cave.

 

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

 

Kisuke senses her first--of course he does. Ichigo only realizes that she's here when Kisuke whistles, sharp and clear, an old signal from the scouting parties, back when those were a thing. His head has snapped towards the entrance, Yoruichi and Tessai mirroring him like bloodhounds. Shinji and Ichigo sense her a second later, followed immediately by Kensei, then Lisa, then the others nearly simultaneously. Some of them tense warily, save for Shinji, who looks as grim as Ichigo has ever seen him, preparing himself for a fight to the death. Ichigo knows that he's one of the old guard, the ones who still remember how she used to be, before Yamamoto brought her in and Zaraki fought her. Before she was the serenely terrifying healer of Soul Society. It's a fascinating comparison, the stark fear edging his reiatsu versus the wariness in the others, but Ichigo doesn't have time for that, because Kisuke and Tessai and Yoruichi have already flashed towards the entrance, prepared to fight, and it might be _ his  _ Kisuke but there's no way either of the others can stand against an Unohana determined to fight. 

 

Also, how the hell did she find them?

 

By the time he gets there, there's already a standoff. No one's holding a blade to anyone's throat, but with assassins and kido masters of this quality, no one needs to. Most interestingly, though, is that Unohana’s zanpakuto is nowhere to be seen. It's a clear gesture of peace, nevermind that he's seen her cast level 90 kido with barely even a gesture. 

 

It's the tiny Gin tucked behind her for the second time in under a day that really gets his attention, though. 

 

With what appears to be his usual level of tact, Ichigo drops into the middle ground of the standoff and grins broadly at Gin, waving cheerfully at the wide-eyed not-child. He likes Gin like this, still too skinny and distrustful but far more innocent, his icy mask less perfectly honed. 

 

Everyone twitches at his sudden arrival, except for Kisuke, with whom he's played “idiot distraction” more times than he can count, and Unohana, because even if he can take her in a fight she still terrifies him for the same reason Yuzu and Orihime and Rukia terrify him. 

 

Unohana steps forward, both hands clasped in front of her, and bows politely. 

 

“Shiba-san, Urahara-san. Thank you for meeting with me today. I would not have approached you, but the Central 46 was about to commit a travesty of justice, and I found myself unable to stand by and watch the execution of a child for something he did not do.”

 

Gin lifted his chin defiantly, face pale and hard. Ichigo barely controlled his own expression. 

 

“Wait, they wanted to kill him? For what? He hadn't  _ done  _ anything yet! He was working _ against _ Aizen!”

 

Unohana tilts her head slightly, a silent acknowledgment that showcases none and all of her latent fury. 

 

“I was hoping that Shiba-san would be willing to, ah, steal Ichimaru-san. For his own safety, of course, but still.”

 

Ichigo sees no problem with this, since Gin seems pretty okay with it. He's about to agree when Yoruichi speaks up, harsh and distrustful. 

 

“How did you find us? No one should be able to sense past the wards.”

 

Unohana hums, a trace of amusement and satisfaction filtering into her tightly leashed reiatsu. 

 

“Shihouin-san, I have known where this place is since you three began sneaking out of the Academy to build it.”

 

Yoruichi glances away, for once. Much to Ichigo's surprise, a faint trace of embarrassment appears on her features. Kisuke laughs, fluttering a hand at Unohana across the entryway separating them. 

 

“Ah, Unohana-taicho, we were much less experienced, back then. It's a wonder all of Seireitei doesn't know where we are.”

 

There's a warning, hidden behind the words, and Ichigo knows that Unohana senses it as well as he does. She directs her serene smile in his direction.

 

“Urahara-san, I do believe no one but myself and… well,  _ all _ of you, now, know where this is. And if we are truly lucky, it will remain that way.”

 

She bows again, ushers Gin forward, and leaves without fanfare. Gin looks utterly uncomfortable at being the sudden center of attention, especially with the Visored and their slightly terrifying intensity. Shinji in particular is eyeing Gin with a predatory smile. No doubt none of them have forgotten that he assisted in their downfall, ulterior motives or not. 

 

After a long moment of silence, though, Gin clearly grits his teeth and turns to face Shinji. 

 

“Hirako-taicho. I...apologize, for the part I played in your, um, Hollow-fication? I wouldn’t’a-- I wouldn’t  _ have _ done it, except that I needed him to trust me, and I couldn’t afford to have limits. But I understand, if you don’t want ta--  _ to _ have me around.”

 

He’s clearly making an effort to repress his native accent, even as the words bite his tongue when he speaks them. Gin is from Rukon, and most all of them know just what an admission of wrongdoing, of guilt, of  _ debt _ , can cost you there. 

 

Ichigo and Kisuke wait. It's the Visored's decision, here, to accept or reject what was offered. Ichigo won't let him die, of course not, but he'll have to work something out if he can't have the two parties in the same space. Besides, he thinks this might be good for them, help keep resentment and hatred from building up behind the scenes, fueling their darker halves. 

 

Shinji makes his move first, and as the eldest of the former shinigami, his decision holds the most weight. Gin doesn't step back as Shinji approaches, just lifts his chin and meets steady grey with quicksilver blue. There's a long silence as the captain and his third seat size each other up, and then something that might almost be considered proud touches the elder’s wide grin.

 

“Eh, yer fine, brat. It ain't like we don't know how why ya did it. You ain't got ta apologize ya us.”

 

Somewhere, off to the side, Yoruichi snickers at the wide-eyed look being bestowed upon the Visored as a hand drops heavily on his head, ruffling the silver hair with surprising gentleness. 

 

That breaks the tension, and Mashiro bounds forward, chattering excitedly about nothing important and followed with unconvincing grumpiness by Kensei. The rest follow in their footsteps, trickling over to meet, greet, threaten, and otherwise make friends with the newest member of their little band of outcasts. 

 

Or, well, they're not actually that small anymore, Ichigo realizes. With half of the strongest surviving members of the Gotei 13, several assassins and thus  _ technically _ the Onmitsukido, and the leader of the Kido Corps, they've gathered quite the sizable force. 

 

He sighs as much to Kisuke, who despite having figured this out at least twenty four hours previously, takes the information with all due gravitas. 

 

By which Ichigo means he laughs himself sick and declares that the Soutaichou is going to have an aneurysm. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think you guys are going to enjoy this one.

The Soutaichou stands in front of his subcommanders and feels the weight of every single one of his thousand years. Betrayal, new threats, and defection-- the Gotei 13 hasn't been this low on captains and lieutenants since the end of the Quincy war. What's worse, all the survivors have been gathering under this new rogue Shiba, and the Central 46 is practically gibbering in fear. 

 

Worse, Ichimaru has now disappeared, an order for the boy's execution has been passed down, and Unohana is being serenely  _ utterly unhelpful _ , nevermind that she was the one who had taken charge of him. 

 

No matter. He has worse things to worry about than a missing third seat, and Unohana knows well enough not to truly cross him, not after he put her in her place all those centuries ago. 

 

(What he fails to notice is, surely, not relevant. Unohana is Unohana, a known quantity, not a threat to his authority, a tamed dog on a leash. Surely, neither of them are the wolves they once were. Surely.)

 

He clears his throat and his shinigami come to attention. Even Shunsui does not play at sleep, more than aware of how dire the situation is, taking his place instead of hovering over Juushiro the way Kaien is. Kiganjo sways on his feet, drunk on bloodlust and anticipation. Ginrei stands silently, a dignified pillar of strength. Mayuri is there, standing in for Urahara. Soi Fon looks heartbroken and furious. Half a dozen other hastily promoted third and fourth seats shift uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze. 

 

Children, all of them. 

 

It is past time they grew up. War has come to their doorstep, and death waits for no man. 

 

<><><><><><><><><><><><><>

  
  


No one has heard from Aizen in a week. That's not unusual in and of itself, but they haven't heard from Tousen either, and he's usually Aizen's proxy when they have business with the shinigami. 

 

No one is alarmed, per se, except the few who actually believe that Aizen is there for something more than to lead them all to their deaths. 

 

Barragan gets restless first, chafing under the lack of a visible leash. He hasn't declared himself king again, but that might be because Nelliel is eyeing him in a manner that suggests that she will  _ find _ a way to hurt him if he starts causing trouble, Tercera or not. Ulquiorra has disappeared again, presumably angsting on top of Las Noches. Starrk is napping in a corner. Harribel is absent as well-- probably seeing to the actual running of Las Noches in the sudden dearth of actual rulers.

 

Grimmjow would sooner swallow his tongue than admit it, but he thinks that between Nel and Harribel, Las Noches has pretty good leadership already. The two of them just get on with the necessities while everyone else quibbles over titles and fails to notice that none of them are actually running anything. 

 

He might even hold off on challenging Nel again for a little bit, while they're still consolidating their power. She won't have time to deal with him, not with everything else going crazy, and he does _ actually _ have a modicum of respect for the two of them, because they don't bother with posturing. They know their power, and where they stand, and they carry it with a confidence that none of the others do. 

 

That, and they have their priorities straight. Damn admirable, that. 

 

With that in mind, he wanders back over toward Barragan and his so-called court, just in time to overhear an energetic discussion over who has to go to Soul Society to take a look. 

 

Oh,  _ that's _ a bad idea if he's ever heard one. 

 

… he wants in. 

 

××××××××××××

 

It doesn't actually take much convincing. For all the noise he usually makes, he was still born of a panther Adjuchas. Grimmjow is literally built for stealth and speed, and a few short moments later, Barragan is "graciously" allowing him to go, instead of his deeply relieved fraccion.

 

Honestly, why they're all so afraid of dropping into the center of the territory of a group bred to kill them is beyond him. 

 

He slips easily through the most subtle garganta he can manage, well outside the range of the shinigami sensors. After that, it's easy to drop his reiatsu to nothingness and slip along the wall until he can hop over after a racing figure clad in black. He follows them to a teeming mass of lower-ranking shinigami, all babbling loudly.

 

So, according to rumor, Aizen is dead. So is Tousen. Gin is under a kill order, but no one can figure out where he is. The commander from the twelfth went crazy and just took them all out without breaking a sweat. An orange haired man stronger than the Soutaichou fell out of the sky. (Which,  _ what?) _ They all vanished, and took the shinigami-hollow hybrids with them, along with the lead assassin and their best demon magic specialist.

 

Grimmjow scoffs at all of them and heads for where he last caught Aizen's scent. He has more tracking tools available to him than these wimps, certainly. 

 

His nose isn't as sensitive as it is in his resurreccion form, but even as good as he is, he couldn't conceal the reiatsu flare from entering  _ that.  _ Even so, he doesn't need those heightened senses to catch where Aizen's parchment and static scent intersects with weapons oil and  _ pain,  _ so sharp that it hurts Grimmjow's nose. The fight must have taken mere seconds, if it could even be called a fight. Both parties had spilled blood, but it was clearly Aizen who had fallen in the end. 

 

And then the crater still in the ground, saturated in the scent of _ pure power.  _ Grimmjow is quivering before he even realizes he's reacted,  trembling with excitement at the promise of true danger, a challenge he can  _ taste _ twisting through the air.

 

He's moving already, tracking toward the giant hill in the distance, near the center of the shinigami stronghold. No one notices him; he's too fast for the lower levels and too quiet, too suppressed on power for the upper levels. 

 

This is going to be one _ hell _ of a fight. Grimmjow can't wait. 

 

<><><><><><><><><><><>

 

Ichigo is pretty pleased with how things are going. The Visored don't want to flee to the human world, but with demonstrable stability and a strong position to negotiate from, and taking into account the severely weakened state of the Gotei 13, Kisuke and Shinji think that they may be able to work something out with the Soutaichou, if the nobles can be appeased or sidelined. 

 

He doesn't feel even the slightest bit guilty for wishing Aizen had killed them all before dying. 

 

Everyone is training--or finding their new limits, as far as the newborn Visored are concerned. Gin collapses looking like he wants to die every evening, under the tender care of Yoruichi. The improvement is noticeable, though, in all of them. Yoruichi in particular, deeply offended by Kisuke's improvement beyond her ken, has begun training herself more or less into the ground. Kisuke and Ichigo find themselves teaching Tessai, Hacchi, and Shinji the first ten kido in the Century Set, which is surreal because Tessai helped Kisuke and Ichigo invent them in the first place. 

 

It's really, really entertaining watching the elder shinigami flounder like first year Academy students, though. Tessai, as ever, catches on with terrifying quickness, although he doesn't quite have the reiatsu reserves that these kido were designed for. Hacchi has precisely the opposite problem-- with more reiatsu at hand than he's ever had before, he can't cast any kido under 100, but takes to the Century Set like a duck to water. 

 

Shinji just keeps exploding things. Kido 110, Whirling Light Sphere, is a  _ Bakudo _ ; how did he even manage that? Ichigo is starting to expect that he's doing it intentionally, throwing as much of his new reserves behind each spell as possible. 

 

Maybe he should show him Kido 128--that seems to be right up his alley, and it's a little more destructive besides. 

 

Of course, everything goes sideways in a single second, as it always does. Out of  _ nowhere _ , a reiatsu signature flares into existence, just inside the ward boundary. It climbs, higher and higher, easily surpassing captain-class and then continuing to rise, causing the cavern to shake from its foundations. 

 

Ichigo  _ knows _ that reiatsu signature. Has fought the owner a thousand times, again and again until they were less enemies and more old rivals. There's no familiarity in this signature, though, only a sharp newness to it that speaks of someone only just beginning to push their own limits and eager to test them. 

  
… fuck him, he forgot about the _ goddamn  _ Arrancar.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so, I heard someone was looking for this?
> 
> *wanders off*

The reaction is immediate, everyone on a hair trigger after the events of the past two weeks, or a war, in the case of the two time travellers. The blue Arrancar very nearly gets exploded by a dozen very jumpy Visored and company. 

 

Naturally, he ignores them entirely, leaping straight forward to land lightly in front of Ichigo. He draws himself to his full height, making use of the two inches he has on Ichigo to affect a menacing loom. 

 

Unfortunately for him, Ichigo has the advantage of  _ years _ of knowing Grimmjow, and the panther hollow of this timeline knows Ichigo not at all. 

 

Also, Grimm can't stop grinning with excitement, which takes away from the intimidation factor a little bit. 

 

Ichigo bares his teeth right back. He knows that this Grimmjow can't beat him, not when even the other version of him eventually fell short of Ichigo's ridiculous learning curve, but he doesn't care. He wants to fight his old friend, let their blades do the talking. 

 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kisuke give an exasperated head shake and then start clearing the training area. 

 

As soon as it's cleared enough that there's no one in the crossfire, Ichigo brings his reiatsu  _ slamming  _ down on his opponent, opening his power without hesitation for the first time since he's been back. He's not bearing down, not really, but he's not really lightening it, either. 

 

This level of power sent an unprepared Yamamoto to his knees. 

 

Grimmjow just howls his excitement and bloodlust and flares his own reiatsu higher, shielding himself from the worst of the onslaught. He staggers, sure, but he adapts in seconds, raising his head and meeting Ichigo's eyes in direct challenge. 

 

See, the thing is, Grimmjow has never been the strongest of Ichigo's opponents, or the smartest, or the deadliest, or the most experienced. 

 

But out of everyone Ichigo has ever fought, he's the only one who bears adaptivity to match Ichigo's own-- the only one with a learning curve even remotely similar. 

 

Ichigo thinks that part of that can be attributed to the sheer _ drive to overcome _ that the two of them share. 

 

They stand for a moment, watching each other, and then, unable to stand the tension for another second, Grimmjow pounces, all that lean muscle poured into speed that leaves him a blur Yoruichi would have difficulty tracking. Ichigo spins, Shiro materializing in a hand, and blocks as Grimm brings Pantera down on what would have been the back of his head. Ichigo holds him midair for a moment, grounding the entire force of the blow, and then uses Shiro to toss the Arrancar skyward. His other hand rises, curling his fingers, and he intones,

 

“Kido One Hundred and Twenty:  Pierce.”

 

From the outside, it looks startlingly like a very large, very overpowered Byakurai, streaking straight through the air towards its target.

 

From the inside, it is also startlingly like a very large, very overpowered Byakurai, except that when contact is made, it reverberates back and forth between the caster and the target, flickering as many as a thousand times a second.

 

In essence, it’s Byakurai turned into  _ true _ lightning, and Grimmjow loses a chunk of his bicep as he fails to dodge quite fast enough. The Arrancar roars, angered rather than hurt, and uses his dodge to spring forwards instead of sideways, blurring back towards Ichigo with his body low, Pantera tucked close to his body--a thrust at high speed, nearly impossible to dodge, and devilish to block. 

 

It’s also clearly a trap, but Ichigo humors him for a moment, brings his flat palm up and places it along the flat of the blade, redirecting the momentum past himself as he twists to the side. Grimmjow strikes, in that second, flattening his free hand into a clawed spear and driving it into Ichigo’s flank--or would have, if Ichigo’s skin had not deflected the hardened nails, sending them scraping harmlessly across his side. 

 

Grimmjow catches himself as the momentum carries him through, twisting midair to face Ichigo in an awed kind of growing rage.

 

“What the  _ fuck _ is your Hierro, you bastard!”

 

Ichigo snickers, despite himself, a fierce joy tearing through him, echoed and amplified by his spirits. 

 

“Well, then,  _ cat _ . What are you going to do about it? Or are you going to run away with your tail between your legs?”

 

That does it. Grimmjow screeches, a wildcat’s feral scream, and levels Pantera out to the side.

 

“ _ Grind, Pantera!” _

 

Ichigo, not to be outdone, allows Shiro to dissolve and enters what counts as his own form of Resurreccion.

 

“ _ Pierce the heavens, Zangetsu!” _

 

The chant isn’t  _ really _ necessary, but Ichigo and Shiro think that it’s appropriate anyway. Their separate consciousnesses meld, leaving Ichigo-and-Shiro grinning at Grimmjow from behind a familiar dragonbone mask, long hair sweeping over their shoulders, swirling red-black power at their fingertips. 

 

Grimmjow doesn’t bother to stand still long enough for Ichigo-and-Shiro to hit him with the Bala on his fingertip. The panther drops to all fours and  _ vanishes _ to the naked eye, blurring even in their vision as he slips into Sonido. 

 

Unfortunately for Grimmjow, what the Arrancar has put into speed is not matched by his strength. In the space of an instant, Ichigo-and-Shiro step into Sonido themselves, catching Grimm by the throat and flattening him to the floor. The Hollow freezes, instinct warring with shock warring with rationality. Ichigo-and-Shiro roar in triumph above him, tipping their head toward the ceiling and loosing a nigh-instantaneous Cero at the ceiling, causing the entire cavern to shake.

 

There’s a long, silent moment where nothing but the slow fall of dust and rubble can be heard, and then Grimmjow sighs gustily, dropping out of Resurrection and tipping his head back to bare his throat. 

 

“Fine, fine, ya crazy bastard, you win. This time. I’ll damn well kick your ass the next time I see you, you got me?”

 

They rasp out a chuckle and release him, allowing Grimmjow to haul himself to his feet, his regeneration already healing most of the damage. As far as spars went, Ichigo-and-Shiro are pleasantly surprised at the challenge Grimm could already give them. At this rate, they might actually get a decent fight in the next century. They grin at him, tipping their head sideways in a half-gesture of friendly intent, and he startles, then gives them a feral smile right back. They reaffirm his promise with one of their own, a low, gravely,

 

"Next time."

 

They escort him to the exit and he slips soundlessly into a Garganta, no doubt heading back to report his findings to the rest of the waiting Arrancar. Which of them had Aizen already recruited? Was Ulquiorra there? Starrk? Harribel? Ichigo has the sudden and pressing urge to go find them, to ensure their safety, regardless of which side of the war they'd eventually fallen on. They'd all ended up dead by the end of it, anyway, fed to Aizen's endless hunger for things to feed to his Hogyouku. 

 

No matter. He's sure they'll all be showing up at some point soon, at least a few of them, especially after sending Grimmjow back like  _that_. 

 

Ichigo lets Shiro melt away, back into his subconscious, where he can feel the spirit lazily poking fun at each of the other two, too battle-sated to be truly ornery. 

 

He’s  _ so glad _ Muramasa and Ossan are satisfied to simply exist in harmony with him, usually. He loves Shiro wholeheartedly, he truly does, but there’s no way he’d manage with  _ three _ equally battle-mad spirits in his head. 

 

He stretches, enjoying the satisfying series of pops down his spine, and turns back towards the Visored and co, all of whom are watching him in absolute, blank shock.

 

Oh. 

 

Whoops. 

 

He probably has some explaining to do. 

**Author's Note:**

> People have asked for a name translation, so here:
> 
> Retorta (iterum est) means Twisted/Twined (to be made so again).
> 
> I like double meanings. And Latin. And titles that sound decent without giving away everything about a fic.
> 
> Why is naming things so *hard.*


End file.
